From My Memories
by PandaFire McMango
Summary: Mimi moves through the hospital, remembering the past year and how it changed both her and Angel. Some CollinsAngel, MimiRoger, and rated T for later language and probably suggested stuff. Chapters to come, i promise. i love you all!
1. More Of A Woman Than You'll Ever Get

**There will be more chapters to this, i swear. i do not own Rent nor the characters, and yes, i worship Rent and all it is about.  
**

Mimi wandered the halls of the hospital, staring dully at passing patients and staff. Her body felt like lead: heavy, thick, and unfeeling. Behind her, in the chill depths of the hospital, Angel lay helpless on a bed, struggling to force each breath past his lips, flailing weakly in the clutches of AIDS, unable to see or hear his friends as they gathered around him, praying desperately this wasn't the end, that one more day existed in Angel's life. Mimi shuddered and felt nausea rise in her stomach as Angel's face, pale and sweating, floated insubstantially through her mind.

Mimi tried to chase the image away by thinking of other Angels, other forms of her friend that still had strength and joy and life. It was like rewinding a movie, watching highlights of your favorite character in order to distract yourself from the fact that the character died. Angel dancing in Central Park, using the faint strains of music that floated out of a nearby café as accompaniment. Angel buying Mimi a scarf in February, even though that meant that Angel couldn't buy a new pair of drumsticks. Angel watching Maureen's performance with the rest of them, her face alight with the energy of Maureen's words and dances. Angel sitting on Collins's lap, insisting on a kiss before she let him have the beer she had stolen from him. Angel, Angel, Angel. So much of all of them was Angel. What would they do if they lost her?

Mimi flopped down onto a plastic chair that sat near the door of a hospital room, hardly noticing the uncomfortable poke in the back that the badly made chair gave her. As she adjusted herself to avoiding the bump of plastic, she noticed a man in wheelchair who was being wheeled down the hall by a tired nurse. His entire head was bandaged heavily, but he was thumbing through a book vigorously, intent on gathering every bit of information that he could. The cover of the book was flipped up, and Mimi caught a glimpse of a photo of a bus station, with a few words in French written at the top. A bus stop…Mimi felt the halls of the hospital swirling away as she plunged into memory.

_Mimi waited at the bus stop, impatiently tapping her foot on the cement sidewalk. She was supposed to be grounded for drinking at a party, like that had mattered to her at all. Still, if she didn't get home soon, her mother would come up with the bland dinner she always prepared Mimi when she was grounded, and find that said grounded daughter had snuck out. And if her mother told her father that she had gone out, then Mimi would be in for a very painful time._

_Mimi glanced around the streets. Apart from a skinhead who was sitting on a bench, his hands in his pockets, the bus stop was empty. Mimi ran a hand through her long brown hair, straightening tangles and pulling curls apart. Just as she was about to get her nail file out, the sound of heels clicking on pavement reached her sensitive ears. Mimi looked up eagerly. Maybe it was one of her girlfriends, and that would help alleviate the boredom a bit._

_But no. It was Alicia or Jenni or Sasha. Rounding the corner was one of the most glamorous, colorful people she had ever seen. The person had short, shiny black hair, creamy mocha skin, and blue-painted fingernails. The colors of their clothing jumped out at Mimi: a bright purple-green tie-dye shirt with a red jacket, a light blue pleated miniskirt, pale yellow tights with what looked like splashes of paint covering them, and knee-high, high-heeled white boots. Mimi could only stare at the brightly colored figure as they leaned delicately against a sign post, half admiring the makeup that covered their face and half stunned at such…audacity, to wear those clothes all together. For some people, that outfit would look like a clown's favorite combo; for the boy (she now understood that the person was male) it worked perfectly. Mimi had never seen someone who conveyed that much life, that much creativity and beauty in one outfit._

"_Wow, you faggots are looking worse everyday," came a voice from the bench. Mimi looked around sharply to see the skinhead, leaning back casually, staring at the drag queen. Mimi could hardly believe him; what bad things could someone see in a person like that? She wanted to stomp over to the skinhead and slap him, wanted to stand up for someone she had never met before._

_But Mimi was saved the trouble as the boy, his face and composed, stepped up to the skinhead, maneuvering in the heels a way she never could have._

"_Hey boy, you want to know something? And I'm only gonna say it once, so listen carefully." The skinhead and Mimi were staring at the drag queen now, amazed at her daring. The skinhead, while shorter than the boy, looked like he could easily break his back._

"_I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, and more of a woman than you'll ever get." The drag queen smiled coolly at the skinhead, ignoring his amazed face. Mimi, who was choking back a laugh, realized with surprise that the bus was moving up the street towards them. The drag queen, turning away from the boy, spied the bus as well and moved to the curb. By the time both Mimi and the boy had gotten on the bus, the skinhead had changed from looking stunned to looking halfway between furious and scared shitless. Mimi noticed, as he paid his fare, the drag queen waved coyly at the skinhead, as though they shared some cute little secret. Mimi laughed again, and lo and behold, before the chuckle had left her throat, the drag queen plopped down next to her, crossing his legs femininely She stared at him, surprised to find that she was happy he had done so._

_The boy smiled at Mimi, a nice, friendly, smile, and Mimi heard herself say, "You really fucking got him back there." The drag queen laughed, and Mimi liked the sound: light, cheerful, and pleasant. "Hi, I'm Mimi," she said, suddenly feeling a great urge to get to know this creature, this person who could be what they wanted and defend themselves without shame. The drag queen smiled widely and held out his hand, nails shining in the light from a passing street lamp._

"_I'm Angel."_

Mimi sighed and lowered her head, staring at the ground. Then, standing suddenly, she resumed her pacing of the hallways.


	2. I Got The Job!

The pale cream walls of the hospital seemed to close in on Mimi, forcing her forward. She moved faster, trying to escape from the confines of her own mind. Another memory slid forward, as clear as glass.

_Mimi whooped and ran down the street, jumping into the air and throwing her legs out. She had just landed the job as the leader dancer at the Catscratch Club, and this meant one incredibly important thing: money. Mimi would finally be able to pay for heat and food and not have to mooch off Angel so much. Though she knew Angel didn't mind. Angel never minded helping someone else._

_Mimi turned the corner and saw what she was looking for; Angel was sitting on the sidewalk, his pickle tub between his knees and his sticks tapping energetically and rhythmically on the plastic container. He was wearing only a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, a red jacket, and a blue hat. Angel bent over his drum, totally caught up in the beat. Something about him seemed so different: maybe it was the way that the feminine air that surrounded him so often had vanished in the fervor of the drumming, or the way his feet sat flat on the ground in sneakers, heels gone. Mimi suddenly realized something that she hadn't fully before: Angel was a guy._

"_Oh, hi, Mimi!" Angel looked up and saw his friend, standing and staring at him from the corner. Laying down his sticks, he rose and strode over to Mimi, embracing her. She put her arms around him too, feeling slightly strange. But when he pulled away, the Angel she knew was looking eagerly at her, smiling the friendly way she was so used to._

"_I thought you were out at your job interview, girl. What happened?"_

"_Angel, I _was_ at my job interview."_

"_Oh god, Mimi, did they say no? I'm so sorry, chica, I—"_

"_No, Angel, they said yes! I got it!"_

"_Shit, are you serious? That's awesome, Meems!" Angel gave her another hug, this one much harder. Mimi smiled at her friend's joy for her. People like Angel were rare. Mimi was lucky._

_Later that night, Mimi lay in bed, the image of Angel drumming on the street still stuck in her head. For the first time, it struck her to wonder if she had ever had any…romantic feelings for Angel, and if Angel had any for her. Mimi focused on the picture of Angel in her head and tried to tell if there was anything "more than friends" in the way she felt. There wasn't. Mimi wondered if Angel had ever thought of her romantically, but decided that that couldn't be true. After all, a guy who dressed more extravagantly than Mimi every day wasn't like to develop a crush on her. Forget being like brother and sister: the two were sisters, pure and simple. Mimi rolled over in bed and grinned into her pillow as she anticipated what this job and this life might bring her next._

A nurse walked by and accidentally shoved a tray of hospital food into Mimi's arm. That poke jolted her out of her reverie, and she shook herself. Then, once more, she started pacing.


	3. He Might Be The One!

Mimi sat in the lobby of the hospital, watching people walk back and forth behind a floor-to-ceiling window. A young couple caught her eyes as they moved down the sidewalk together, laughing and holding onto each other, the taller boy bending down to kiss the girl every few steps. Mimi watched them walk away, her stomach churning. They reminded her…

_Mimi squealed and buried her head in her pillow. It had happened! It had finally happened! After waiting so long…Mimi turned over and grinned at the ceiling, seeing not the dried, flaking paint but Roger's face, smiling down at her in the way that made her heart skip. All the flirting of earlier had worked its magic. Roger had invited her to dinner, which in itself was a blast, and then…for once, probably the only time in her life, Mimi felt glad that she had needed to take an AZT break._

_Now they were together, and Mimi shivered as she thought of what the next few days alone might be like. Roger, once he had gotten past the moody stuff, was one of the best guys she had ever met. Hot, too. Mimi giggled like a little girl and rolled over._

_And Angel had met someone too! A tall, handsome guy who turned out to be a professor, of all things. Mimi had often been wary of Angel's "love interests" in the past, for fear that they might do something to the cheerful drag queen she couldn't deal with. But after her first look at Tom Collins, seeing the way he himself looked at Angel, Mimi felt better about him than she had about anyone._

_Mimi shivered in excitement, the rest of the year swimming before her eyes. This would be the best year ever. She could feel it._

Mimi sighed again and got up, walking down the hall.


	4. I Don't Know What To Do

Mimi leaned against the wall again, staring at the ceiling. She must have paced through the entire hospital twice now. It was stupid, she should just go back and be with Angel and the others, but no. She couldn't. And the memories kept welling up…

_Mimi sat on her bed, slowly turning over a tiny package of white powder in her hands. It rustled gently, almost soothingly, like it was comforting her…girl, you're pretty desperate if the sound of a rustling bag makes you feel comforted. Mimi bit her lip and scowled at the syringe sitting on top of her dresser a few feet away. Don't use it, girl, don't…Roger hated her enough, he would leave her for sure if he caught her shooting up or on a high. Mimi wanted so badly to put down the bag, turn out the light, go to sleep. But she didn't She just sat there._

_Angel. Maybe calling Angel would make her feel better; maybe talking to her best friend would help. Mimi lay back and reached out, groping for the phone on her nightstand. She found the receiver and pulled the cord, dragging the cradle onto the bed beside her. Dialing the number she knew by heart, Mimi pressed the phone to her ear._

_Brrrrrr. The buzz of the ringing sounded in her ear._

_Brrrrrr._

Brrr— 

"_Hello, this is Ange—" The drag queen was cut off by a monster coughing attack. Mimi listened in horror for a few moments before slamming the phone down and pushing it roughly away. Her hands trembled, and she squeezed the bag hard. Oh god, Angel. Angel couldn't get sick, not when Mimi needed her most. Angel was there for Mimi, always. Mimi didn't want to have to be there for Angel; Angel was strong, Angel didn't need others to tend to her when she was weak. Angel was never weak._

_Mimi stared at her ceiling, searching for an answer there, anywhere. Benny? No, he wasn't good for anything. All he did was tear her and Roger apart. Sure, she had used some methods of persuasion that Roger might not like, but she hadn't done what he thought she had. She wasn't that low._

_Mimi felt a seam of plastic press against her palm, and suddenly she felt reckless. Jumping up, she grabbed one of the pretty scented candles that Angel and Maureen had collected for her over the last few months. They both said how nice the candles looked on her windowsill and around her apartment, how they perked it up. Mimi knew that there was a message underneath the candles; one that they maybe didn't even realize was there. It was like a question, a challenge to her to live out the withdrawal and quit smack, to only smell and look at the candles. Mimi had stopped herself before by staring at those candles. Not now, though._

_She hunted through the second drawer of her dresser, finally finding a book of matches and a belt, which she laid on the bed. Her hand strangely steady, she struck a match and watched as the bright yellow flame leapt up, flickering like a warning light. She held it to the wick, the tiny fire flowing from one point to another, joining them. Mimi blew out the match and satisfactorily gazed at the burning candle. A voice inside her said, _You have enough time to stop. Don't do this, don't._ Mimi ignored it and slowly drew out the crinkled bag…_

"_Mimi, can I come in?" Roger's voice cut through her determination like a knife. She jumped wildly and almost dropped the candle, blowing it out and frantically shoving it beneath her bed._

"_Mimi? Are you in there?" Roger knocked tentatively on the door. Mimi looked around desperately. Where to put it, where to put it…her brain finally started up and she thrust it into the still open drawer that the matches had come from, burying it deep beneath skirts and pants. The matches followed, nestled in the deep, dark corner._

"_Ye—yeah, baby, I' m here, c'mon in," she called to keep the tremor from her voice. It was just as the door began to slide back that Mimi remembered about the needle. Grabbing it from her dresser, she threw it to the floor and kicked it beneath the bed to join the candle. It skittered out of sight just as Roger poked his head inside._

"_Hey, Mimi…uh, I just wanted to say…I'm sorry. I guess I shouldn't gotten so worked up, I was just tense and worried and sort of…forgive me?"_

"_Of course, baby, I do." Mimi shuddered as he embraced her, her heart beating wildly. He felt so warm, so steady, so there for her…but Mimi's eyes found the belt still lying on her bed, and she felt her stomach churn with the realization of what she had been about to do._

"Are you all right, dear?" A concerned voice snapped Mimi out of her reverie. In front of her stood a tiny old nurse, her gray hair coifed and her lined face worried. Mimi realized that she had been wringing her hands and pacing back and forth across the hall. The woman must have thought she was an escaped mental patient.

Blushing, Mimi muttered, "I'm fine," and brushed past the old nurse, actually pushing her aside. Regretting her actions (but not enough to turn around and apologize) Mimi headed towards Angel's room.


	5. Never Escape

**this is the true end, i swear! i know its depressing, but i can't find another way. im sad, huh?**

"Mimi!" Mimi jumped as someone shouted her name from down the long white hallway. She spun to see Roger, his face pale and his short blond hair flattened, sprinting towards her. He skidded to a halt, panting.

"Roger? What is it?" Mimi felt a chill go down her back as he struggled to get his breath.

"Angel…Collins says come as fast as you can." Roger barely managed to choke out the words before Mimi grabbed his hands and started to run. She went at a breakneck pace, nearly dragging Roger behind her. The roar of her fear and her heart only made her run faster as she strained to reach Angel before it was too late.

The door of Angel's room came into sight. Mimi's whole body seemed to go numb when she was what was outside. Maureen and Joanne, tears coursing down their faces, were huddled together in the hospital chairs, arms wrapped around each other. Mark, his face stony and white, was staring at the ground, leaning against the wall a few feet away from the two women. Releasing Roger's hands, Mimi grabbed the door handle and burst into the hospital room.

Her worst fears were confirmed after one glance around the room. A nurse stood by the many machines in the nearby corner, pressing buttons and writing on a sheet. The machines were silent now, the usual beeps and drones quiet as death. Collins sat on the bed, silent tears running down his cheeks. Beside him, lying peacefully on the bed, was Angel. Only it wasn't Angel. And it never would be again.

"NO!" Mimi screamed. She flew to the bed and grabbed Angel's hand, horrified by the cold, heavy feel of the skin. She squeezed it and shouted, her cries punctuated by desperate sobbing, for Angel to wake up, to be okay. She called out for Angel, and for the first time, Angel did not come to her.

"Mimi…" Collins whispered to her, but she didn't hear him. All she could do was scream for Angel, scream her name again and again nonstop, even when the nurse tried to pull her off, even when another nurse was called in by the noise, even when Roger tried to make her leave. Mimi couldn't live with this, it was too much, and as her grief, her tremendous pain and suffering spilled out into the room, Mimi felt a part of herself die along with Angel. Because Angel had become part of who she was, and her death killed Mimi as well.

Mimi knew that out of all her memories, out of all the times she remembered with Angel, this one would never fade. No matter what, it would haunt her, reutrning at night and in the early morning. And she could never escape.


End file.
